


for an eternity and one day more

by narcyska



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Character Death, Gen, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29866470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narcyska/pseuds/narcyska
Summary: the last words your soulmate will ever say to you are tatooed on your body. your boyfriend never showed you his, and yours... apparently doesn't match.
Relationships: Sakusa Kiyoomi & Reader, Sakusa Kiyoomi/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	for an eternity and one day more

you wish you could’ve said tears made your vision blurry. but after all these days, your eyes were perfectly dry, no little rivers were streaming down your puffed cheeks, and you were forced to stare directly at your wrist, and the words tattooed there by some idiotic magic. some cursed, freaky foolery that made you rethink your life the past two days at least ten times, searching for even one mistake, for even one moment you could feel something wasn’t right. 

but to your dismay, there was nothing. everything in your life fell to pieces so perfectly, as if you were the princess in a dream of every five year old girl in the world, only now could you realize, it was all too good to be true. well, except one part. 

the words stared back at you, burning into your flesh, your glance holding them into place, as if they were to disappear if you did as much as blink. 

“and one day more”, the tattoo said, directly and clear, never changing tint painted your skin black, no matter how desperately you wanted the letters to shift into something else. you wished to be hated right now. you wished for it to be an insult, and yet, the words remained as cheesy and painfully romantic as the first day you saw them. 

so he wasn’t your soulmate after all. 

all these years, never once had you doubted that. since the moment atsumu introduced him to you, since the moment he said “oh and i guess this is omi-kun, but it’s not like you’re gonna have a conversation wi—”

and since the moment he interrupted. 

“i am perfectly capable of introducing myself, miya.” since the moment he glared at him, fingers constantly running through his hair, all messy from practice, by which he was visibly annoyed. 

“hate to break it to you, but my actual prefered name is a bit more mundane than that cursed nickname” 

“hey, i came up with that! it’s not cursed!” atsumu pouted, half mockingly, half serious, 

“precisely” he mumbled, making the setter narrow his eyebrows even more, before huffing and proceeding to leave, “i’ll be coming back to practice. it was so nice of you to come! just yell at me if you want me to rescue you” he winked, and soon was gone. 

“so? are you actually going to tell me your name?” you asked, one eyebrow raised, as his eyes focused back on you.

“please, like you don’t know” he chuckled, internally surprised with himself that somehow, his usual anxiety and disgust wasn’t kicking in, instead he felt relaxed and in place when talking to you, even if it was no more than thirty second since you met each other. 

“oh, so you consider yourself a celebrity, huh?” you laughed, causing him to shake his head. 

for a second he didn’t respond. you were starting to feel startled with the way he started at your smiling lips, but then he blinked finally, and answered. 

“i have places to be and balls to spike, smiles. let’s just say...”

and that, that was the precise moment since which you knew. since the one line he said before running off, a smug smile you should never be able to see, and yet you did. you were sure and certain. this was your soulmate. 

“... i only share that information with people i actually like”.

“sure you do, omi-kun!” 

since that moment, your heart began to settle and as much as you pushed that thought away, saying that you were too young to know, and after all you just exchanged a couple of truly meaningless sentences with him, you couldn’t deny the fact that you knew. knew for a fact, that you’ve found your own person. 

it was so random and sudden, so casual, countless evenings did you stare at your mirror and let your mind wonder, trying to find answers as to why you were feeling so strongly so fast. it was uncharachteristic of you, even if you were ever in love, you didn’t believe it could happen on such first sight, and yet there you were. was it the magic your parents always told you about? the one so inexplicable that they always stated that “you just have to feel it”, and “you’ll know when it comes”?

you thought it was just your lonely brain pulling tricks on you, until that one night you decided to hang out with the MSBY team, and went to tsumu’s apartment, waiting for hinata, meian and sakusa along with tsumu and bokuto. 

you didn’t pay much attention to their talk, it was mostly plans for the upcoming season, until they shifted the subject. 

“hey, did you ever read what was on omi’s wrist? he never covered it, but maybe that’s why i didn’t pay attention” the blonde wondered, his fingers playing with the edge of his glass. bokuto shook his head. 

“no, i think it’s too personal to check. why’re you curious? you hope you’re his soulmate or what?” he laughed in his usual, loud way, and the word “soulmate” called for your attention. 

“no you weirdo, it’s just he started covering it recently, and i just wonder, did he meet his other half?” 

“my ma’ always said that there’re no other halfs, because you’re a person on your own”

“yeah yeah, cute, but not the point here, bokuto” atsumu sighed. “and he didn’t even tell me... bastard.”

there was comfortable silence between the three of you for a few brief seconds, before the blond setter started the topic again:

“hey, you’re oddly quiet, where’s your tattoo located?” he asked with genuine curiosity in his eyes, as you glared at your wrist, covered loosely with the bracelet you wore over it ever since you got the tattoo, it being something so intimate you didn’t want to share it with the entire world at once, concealers didn’t work on the ridiculously black tint, and the bracelet made it harder to read. 

“you didn’t notice? thought you were observant?” you teased, making atsumu roll his eyes and take your hand into his, pushing the piece of jewelery away to read the caption. 

“it’s on your wrist too? awh, maybe you’re omi’s soulmate!” he exclaimed looking at the writing from every angle possible. 

“what’s written on there?” bokuto asked, not wanting to shift from his seat across the table. 

“oh, it’s and—”

“we’re here!” hinata yelled at the same moment, giving you an opportunity to move your hand back. 

and so it stayed a mistery. 

you shifted onto the bed you shared, still messy after you both woke up those couple of days ago, earlier than you were supposed to, because of a text he got from his mother. a text that set him off for the entire day and finally caused everything that happened next. 

your heart couldn’t stay still when you put your head over the pillow, the familiar scent of the other side of the mattrace hitting you no matter how hard you tried to hold your breath. 

you noticed a small package laying on a nightstand next to your fiance’s side, and you went over to grab it, eyes getting hot when you realized what it was. 

a set of band aids. 

omi wore band aids on his wrist for as long as you could remember, but according to atsumu, he only started wearing those after meeting you. they were always on the inner side of his wrist, and after a while putting them on was his routine, it grew on him so much he didn’t even really think about it - just bought a pack once a week and put it on 2 times a day, for it to stay hygenic. didn’t make it a big deal or anything, but if you asked, he’d turn really gloomy, while also trying not to worry you too much. 

“hey, weirdo, let me see what’s under that band aid. you of all people should know that if you get a cut, you can’t have it covered all the time, it won’t heal like this” you muttered against the couch you were laying on, gently grabbing his hand by the little finger, only for him to jerk it away, not even moving his gaze from the book he was reading. 

“it’s not a cut” he just mumbled, eyes following the printed letters in utter focus. 

“then why do you cover it?”

“i don’t want you to see it” he explained straight away, in the blunt way he always would, not finding any reason to keep it away from you.

“why?” you asked sincerely, apparently enough to bring his eyes away from the book. he reached out to grab the tips of your fingers into his and slowly rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand, a soft smile wondering on his face but never actually reaching to lift up the corners of his lips. 

you couldn’t help but grin a bit yourself, making him raise an eyebrow. 

“quit smiling at me, i can’t stop messing up what i’m saying if you look at me like that” 

you giggled. 

“like what?” 

“nevermind, dummy. just... don’t worry about it. just trust me and don’t check, okay?” he pulled your hand to his chest so you’d come and sit beside him in the armchair. you curled up against his chest, hair still wet from the shower damping his t-shirt, enjoying the smell of his perfume and the delicate, intimate aura of the moment, even though curiousity wouldn’t let you out of its hold. 

“is it your soulmate mark?” you asked, remembering the conversation between you and atsumu, about how he started to cover it. 

“thought i told you not to worry, didn’t i darling? can i trust you that you won’t check?” he mumbled against your hair, and let out a breath when you nodded. he trusted you wouldn’t, and you didn’t.

although now you wish you did. 

“what’re we reading?” your sleepy voice ended the silence in your living room after a while, your eyes too tired to see for themselves. sakusa shifted and relaxed in his position, taking a breath before he started telling. 

“it’s called the orange girl. it’s a story of a boy reading letters from his dead dad, who wrote them while terminally sick, about a love story he shared with a girl, whom he met on the tram, she got his attention because she was holding a basket of oranges. she then disappears and shows up at random places at random times, acknowledging him but never actually talking, and they continue this hide and seek until she gives him a riddle, which he solves. they can’t be together for long, since he’s sick, but they had to, since their love was so true they couldn’t stay away from each other without falling into pieces. they were like the glue holding each other together, the mistery being the only shared link they had for a long time” he kept lowering his voice as he felt your head growing heavier and heavier against his chest, to the point he practically whispered. 

“that’s... sad” you mumbled, half passed out, and he tried so hard to surpress his laugh, so it doesn’t bring you out of your blissfull state. 

“i don’t think it is, no. see, they didn’t have much time with each other, but that was enough for them, they cherished every moment and would much rather spend so little together than eternities alone. no matter how long she’ll have to spend alone before meeting him again, she’ll love him forever, and so will he, even though he’s not physically there, i think it’s poethic.” he stated, getting hair out of your face, gently leaning forward to put the book down. 

“just as i’ll love you.” he added, now thinking you were asleep completely “even if you’ll hate me. come on, big baby, let’s get you to sleep” 

come to think of it, he always said he’ll love you forever. never an eternity, always forever. in his proposal, it was “always and for always” and whenever you fought and made up it was “for as long as the sun shines in the morning”

never an eternity. 

it’s not like it was something bad, he could be really a master of his words if he wanted to, and if he ever used that one, you’d obviously get scared and tell him to quickly say something else, not to tease fate too much, but he never did. 

as if he knew. 

you wanted to show him just as much you respected him and his privacy after that night, scared by the last sentence he said, and thought you didn’t hear, and made it your goal to find a new set of band aids for the both of you. it was often “look, omi! i found ones with elza, from frozen! she reminds me of you, so here. take these” 

“excuse me? if i get elsa, you get swen”

“why the hell would i get swen?”

or that time when for your anniversary you had ones custom made with some of his favorite song quotes. it was an inside joke, not much of a joke but much of an inside between the two of you, that always put a smile on your faces while still reminding you that before love, before passion and before even friendship, there was always trust and respect between the two of you. 

and that reminder was often needed. 

he could be a sappy romantic, at times, but it was still the sakusa kiyoomi you met that first day, still a blunt jerk, accents on jerk, still closed off, still a bit egoistic and cold at times. you two had similar tempers, and it often resulted in fights. very often. 

you loved his fierce attitude, you adored his honesty. appreciated the straight forward notices when he didn’t like something you did, and liked the way he always spoke what was on his mind when around you. but sometimes what was on his mind didn’t exactly cover what you wanted to hear. 

as you put away the box of band aids, your hand grazed over the photoframe still damaged from the one time he had to glue it back together after one fight, after he threw it on the ground to let out his anger in some way. 

you yelled at him for your fair share of over twenty minutes, and only when your voice started to get sore, did he start talking, but whenever he wanted, venom could cover those sweet words he’d so often whisper, as if his sentences were sharp enough to cut through glass. 

“why can’t you just let someone care about you?” you’d shout, voice cracking at the end, causing you to put a hand over your throat, realizing it’s time to stop talking. 

“because you won’t understand! you’ll never understand! that’s the thing, y/n, you may try as hard as you want to, but in the end, you’re too—” he’d manage to bite his tongue before saying something he didn’t mean, and yet your eyes widened. 

“too what? too stupid? too much of an idiot to mit the intelectual standards you have set? is that it?” you’d drag and tease, as every muscle in his body would tense up, fists curling as he’d take the frame and smash it onto the ground, soon realizing how much of an overreaction that was, but not just yet. 

“stop putting words in my mouth! i never said you were stupid, for fucks sake—” 

the door closing behind you would wake him up from his thoughts, as he whispered a quiet “fuck” under his breath, and go after you. 

nevertheless you’d never leave, you always went to the bathroom, put some water in your face, take a few deep breaths, and by the time you were ready to go face him, he’d already have calmed down and would be ready to talk, apologize if it was his fault, forgive if it wasn’t. 

cause after all, you were soulmates. 

you were meant to be with each other. you wouldn’t survive with each other. two puzzles of the same picture, fitting perfectly, and not with anything else. 

right?

he’d mutter the lyrics to can’t help falling in love while he’d occasionally do your hair, he’d come behind you while you were cooking and rest his chin on your shoulder. leave notes in your lunch. 

he was the most thougtful person you ever met. the most precise in his actions, most affectionate in what he was capable of doing for you, most selfless in giving his all into bringing a smile on your face. 

one night, he came home from practice, and there was just something so weird about him, you remembered, about the way he smiled almost like he was fifteen again, all excited and hyped. 

you lifted yourself up from the bed, finding it hard to move, since the ache in your heart was roaming throughout your entire body,leaving you tired and defenseless. however you managed to get to the dresser, and search for one through your shirts. 

“so, you know how i’m not the biggest fan of merch, right?” he said, his eyes lit up as he turned around to grab a nicely wrapped, loose gift from his bag. 

“i know? you don’t understand the hype people get from wearing things that have your surname on it, you’ve told me countless times”

“yes, but—”

“you’ve also told me that doing figurines of living real people is somewhat creepy”

“yeah, that too—”

“and that the plushie they made with you scares the living shit out of—”

“i know! i know! but listen” he’d say, handing you the package. as you began opening it carefully, he continued “you know that because of privacy policy they can’t make the merch jerseys the exact same as the real ones? the merch has the surname and number smaller by 2 centimeters, and the space between each letter is wider by exactly a half of a centimeter. and since we’re redoing the shirts with a slightly different design, i ordered—”

“you ordered one more for me” you whispered as you held the soft material in your hands, the paper laying somewhere on the ground, by your feet. 

“i ordered one more for you.” he finished, scratching his neck in a nervous gesture “i know that i’m not the best boyfriend—”

“fiance” you corrected. 

“fiance, when it comes to letting you wearing my things, so i hope this makes up for it in a way?” he suddenly flinched as if he remembered something right in that moment “oh, and...” he reached to his bag again “these are my perfumes. if... oh my god, this is so pathethic, why was i so—”

you took the bottle out of his hand, and, since he didn’t like to hug right after coming home, you gave him the brightest smile you could. 

“it’s perfect. you’re perfect.” you muttered, hand moving upwards to ruffle his hair and mess with him just a little bit “come on, go clean up, dinner’s almost ready”

would it be a violation of your agreement if you just wore his shirt now? it’s not like he’d come check. you didn’t need your own-his shirt right now. you didn’t need to have “the one original that no fan will ever have”, you didn’t give a fuck about those 2 and a half centimeters of difference that meant so much to you. 

you hastened to open the bottom drawer, and then, folded nicer than your version, was the real, real sakusa kiyoomi number 15 MSBY shirt, the one and only, a little harsh from being used and washed a lot, but right now, there was no softer fabric in the world. 

you hid your head in the folds of the jersey, begging for the tears that you knew damn well were building up to finally come out. 

“you idiot” you whispered, “you idiot, you idiot, you fucking idiot!” louder and angrier every time you began wailing, the black material being the only thing covering your screams. “why’re you always so stupid? so... so fucking precise? couldn’t you spend one night, one night without me? one night in anger? you’d still be— you absolute, fucking idiot, sakusa!” 

only anger and frustration came to your heart as you recalled all the things he did with you. 

all the dances to classical waltzes at three in the morning in the small light over your oven. 

your walks with his dog, faces white and noses red from the winter cold. 

all the events you’d go to along with him, when he’d dress up all pretty and would ask you to do his tie, even if he was the master of the art himself. 

the time he actually taught you how to tie a tie, while you were both drunk talking in your bedroom after a college party. 

all the things he did for you. the good morning forehead kisses, the cups of hot tea with the exact amount of additions you liked, the way he always wrapped your scarf a little bit tighter around your neck, the way he’d remind you to wash your face if you were too tired to motivate yourself to get up and do it. 

why would he do all those things with such ease, how did he memorise every single line of your character, every single habit you ever developed, if he

wasn’t your soulmate?

your sharp breath began to even out after a while, as you recalled the most recent events. 

he was very set off that morning. his mother, who he hated with all the hatred available in his heart, texted him something about an alledged family dinner he had to go to that evening. 

the text woke you up at six in the morning on a saturday, not making a great start to a day full of nerves. ever since that text, he’d been more irritable and annoyed than the usual. he didn’t finish his morning coffee, he got splashed with rainwater by a car while on his run, everything was wrong. 

everything was wrong. 

you left the stage of your relationship where you were afraid of making each other mad long behind you, and yet you were kinda afraid to ask for the basic things that day. like, what did his mother text him? why did it annoy him that much?

you didn’t know that at the time, but what woke him up wasn’t a text, it was a burning feeling under his band aid. he lifted it, noticing you were still sound asleep and looked at the writing. nothing had changed, but it was burning hot, and didn’t allow him to stay asleep. 

“what the hell?” he mumbled, rubbing the skin, as if that was supposed to help, but there was no result. 

“mm?” you mumbled, asleep, and he just glued it back on and laid down next to you again. 

“nothing, don’t worry about it.” 

nothing, don’t worry about it was a phrase he overused. not that he wasn’t comfortable with you, no, it was the complete opposite, but as he was raised in a very traditional way, some things were just meant to remain a secret.

it was a sort of protection he’d give you, protecting you from his dark thoughts, his mind that often didn’t listen to his commands, from himself, putting it short. 

little did he know, all you ever wanted was to see those parts of him that he kept caged from you. 

that was the one difference between the two of you that nothing could get over, but, even in a puzzle, elements have to be different in order to fit, right?

right. 

you called yourself stupid as you recalled that now. 

turns out you would fit, just... not together. but why would someone be so perfect for you, why would your heart jump out of your chest every time you saw him, if it wasn’t meant to be? why did it feel so right if it just wasn’t?

as simple as that. he wasn’t your soulmate, after all. 

that night, you got into a fight. you finally told him how many fucks you give about him wanting to protect you, how secretive he is, how dumb and idiotic, and weak it makes you feel. how you hated it. 

you glanced at the delicate ring placed on your finger, and sadly didn’t recall the moment he’d put it there with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen, but the moment you almost took it off the other night, driven by emotions and stupid, selfish motives. 

if only you knew then... if only. 

you wouldn’t say “do i even truly matter to you, kiyoomi?” you wouldn’t laugh sarcastically, you wouldn’t stare at him as if he was the worst person on earth. you wouldn’t make him feel so worthless and so pathethic. 

“of course you do. that’s why i don’t want to get into it, what’s so hard to understand about that? why is so hard for you to accept, that i may just have things that i’m not gonna share with you? where is that privacy and respect you so like to talk about, huh?” 

“kiyoomi, respect for privacy is one thing, you’re just isolating yourself from me! what, did you get bored of me? did you realize i’m not fit for your fantasies anymore? is that it?” you did know you shouldn’t have said that in the first place, you knew you did it purposely and only to hurt him, but emotions have taken over your brain completely. 

“what the fuck! i know you’re just trying to make me more mad so i say something i regret, don’t think i didn’t catch up with your sick methods already, mrs smart!” he turned around to face you, a heartbroken look in his eyes, as if the trust he had for you was disappearing by the second. instant regret hit you, but that was just the deal between you two, nobody knew when to zip it and back off. 

“oh so i’m suddenly so bad, huh? so hard to deal with, is that so?” 

his face went all white, blood rushing away as he heard those words. 

“that’s right. i heard you talking with atsumu.”

“hey no, you’re taking it out of context, i would never mean it like that and you know it damn well”

“do i? do i know it damn well, kiyoomi? or do i just try to believe in something about you that just isn’t quite there?” tears appeared in the corners of your eyes as you realized it wasn’t about the text anymore. 

“no. no, no, no, no, don’t go there. you need to calm down, you’re being ridiculous!” 

“i am being ridiculous? I AM being ridiculous? you’re the one that makes me hate you right now!” you shouted, as you turned around, grabbed your keys and phone and left the apartment. 

it’s fine, he told himself, you just went over to the bathroom like you always do, but minutes and hours flew by and he realized you truly... left? he searched everywhere, and you just weren’t there. he began to panic. 

especially with his tattoo burning it’s way into his skin even more. 

it doesn’t matter where you went, it doesn’t matter for how long. what matters is when your phone finally rang from someone else than sakusa kiyoomi and you picked up, it was the worst possible call you ever got. 

he was at the hospital. 

car accident. 

drunk driver. 

it was so obvious, it was so basic, it was so... idiotically predictable. 

you obviously rushed there, obviously with fear at heart, but you didn’t fear him leaving you forever. he didn’t say his “and one day more” yet, right? he couldn’t go. 

you checked every document, talked with every doctor, with every relative already present, even dealth with his hell sent mother and overprotective sister, and dismissed every single bad news, every single “he might not make it”, every “i don’t know wether he’ll wake up, it would be a miracle.”

and when you entered the room, he did look as if he was he was one foot in his grave already. you were careful to reach out to to his forehead over all the little cables and tubes, and get his annoyingly curly locks out of his eyes. 

“why did you follow me, dumbass?” you whispered, eyes set on his closed lids. “you know i’ll always come back to you. i love you too much to leave, you know that, right? you’re aware? why did you do such a dumb thing? you’re smarter than this! we’re smarter than this!” you whined and whined, but to no response. 

his mother gently informed you that it might be time to say goodbye, but you didn’t listen, you didn’t care. it wasn’t the day he’d die. 

you stayed in his room alone for a little while, gently rubbing his hand with your thumb, mentally apologizing for being so, so difficult, and stubborn, and— and stupid! 

you didn’t know what it meant when all the devices started beeping suddenly, you had no idea. 

but even you would recognize that line that was supposed to jump at the speed of his heart rate going straight. you’d recognize that awful beep. that deadly calm on his face.

“hey. hey, hey, hey!” you started shouting. “don’t you dare leave me yet, you idiot! we still have so much to do together, no, no, no start working! start fucking working!” you screamed at his still heart, looking at the dark screen. 

“no. no no no no no, i refuse, i won’t let you do me like that, sakusa, you hear me? you’re not allowed to—” you began panicking as you shook your fiance’s body desperately, barely managing to even move him a bit. 

“wake up, you idiot, wake up!” was the last thing you said before your words started blurring together and becoming an incoherrent mess, before the doctors got into the room, before some nurse escorted you out. 

that was the last time you’ve seen your boyfriend. 

and now you were supposed to be getting ready for the ceremony, you were supposed to act like the composed, grieving partner, his never-to-be spouse, picture perfect form of sadness, yet you couldn’t pick yourself up from the floor, where you were sobbing in the material of the damn jersey, ironically, cause he’d be so mad for it, if only he was there. 

honestly, anything would be better. any screams, silent treatment, any fight, any tears, anything. would be better than this. 

because not only were you incapable of picking yourself back up after loosing your only love, you were also painfully reminded that this man, the man that meant the whole universe to you, he wasn’t your soulmate. he was never in the plan for you. and you were so mad, at whoever was up there, at fate, at god, at whatever, you couldn’t believe it, you felt like a glitch in a system. 

he had to be your soulmate. 

and yet the last words you heard and are ever gonna hear from him were “you’re being ridiculous”. 

as you tried to get up from the floor, hands clenching around the material, you realized you have no idea what time it is. 

you had no idea where your phone was, at that. you didn’t check it in over three days, you didn’t have the nerves to read all the “oh my god, are you okay? i’m so sorry for your loss” bullshit. 

they would never understand “your loss”.

so as you finally found it somewhere in your purse, it was all out of battery. it took a while to charge it, and after you realized how little time you have until the funeral begins, you received a ton of messages all at ones, just as predicted.

you didn’t mean to go through them, you truly weren’t in the place to do so. but there was a chat that was always pinned at the top of the list. 

your eyes widened. 

1 new message from:

omi <3

your fingers and breath both shook endlessly as you pressed the highlighted font, eyes watering finally when you realized, 

it was a voice message. 

it took a while before you pressed it open. 

sounds of traffic were heard, as if someone was calling you from inside a car. “hey there, smiles, it’s me, your favorite douchebag of a boyfriend! no, without all the jokes, we all acted on impulse, didn’t we? i’m sorry for all i said. you know i am. just let me explain it to you in person, okay? i’m driving around here, but you’re nowhere to be found, and your friends don’t know anything about where you are, neither does atsumu. you can be mad at me all you want, but please come home, okay? it’s getting late. we can fight but i won’t stop worrying about you ever, i won’t ever stop caring. please, baby, please tell me where you are? you’re not picking up, so that’s why i’m leaving you a voice message...” 

your heart was beating like crazy as you listened to your boyfriend’s voice, realizing this will be the last thing you’ll ever hear him say.

“... anything is better than not knowing if you’re okay, y/n, any screaming and yelling you have planned for me, truly. i didn’t mean what i said, and neither did you. but i do mean that i will really try to be more open with you, if that’s what you want. i’ll try to make up for every mistake i’ll ever make. and remember, i’ll love you

for eternity, and one day more” 

after that, his speech was interrupted by a loud noise, him saying “what the fuck” and some sounds of metal being smashed. and after that, there was a whole minute of silence. 

a scream left your throat as you realized, 

he was your soulmate, after all, 

but you lost him forever. 

*

after you finally made it to the funeral, greeted by your friend and hugged tightly by sakusa’s sister, coldly glanced by his mother, you realized, the cascet was open. 

why the fuck. would they leave it. open?

“hey, sakusa-san?” you asked your fiance’s sister, and she turned around with a tired smile. 

“please honey, call me by my first name” she said gently, playing with your shirt, as if she had to do something with her hands. 

maybe it ran in the family. 

“why did they... why did they leave it like that?” you pointed towards where your boyfriend surely was, and her smile disappeared suddenly. 

“mother wanted it like that, honey. do you want me to help you go see him?” she grabbed your hand tightly and smiled, as much as she could, and when you nodded, she leaded the way. 

it was hard. it was very fucking hard. you wanted to run, you wanted to disappear, to not be there anymore. he looked as if he was sleeping. as if he was going to wake up any moment. you swore his eyelid twitched at one time. 

maybe you needed to do something with your hands too, because you noticed something wrong about his suit. 

“who the hell made that?” you asked while reaching over to his hand. 

“who do you think?” the woman sighed, pointing towards her mother. 

“he has his sleeves uneven. he’d hate that” you chuckled under your breath, adjusting said sleeves, when suddenly, your fingers grazed over the black ink on his writs. you looked, even though you knew you shouldn’t.

wake up, you idiot! said the writing. you let out a breathy sigh as you reached over to your purse, and glued one last “frozen” themed band aid over the tattoo. 

“you’re my eternity. and my more, too”


End file.
